First Down
by purpleraincloud
Summary: High school has always been rough for Joe Hardy, but now he faces 1) a saboteur on the football team 2) failing a class 3) the one girl that may come between him and Vanessa...
1. Chapter One

Summary: High school is rough enough for Joe Hardy, but now he's got to deal with 1) a saboteur on the football team 2) a class he's failing and 3) the one girl that may come between him and Vanessa.  
Author's Notes: I stopped reading Casefiles before Vanessa came along, so since I don't know how to write her in, I decided to remove her. :smirk: I'm evil that way. Oh well. On with the show...  
  
First Down  
  
"Joe, watch out!" Yelled Frank Hardy to his blonde-headed, blue-eyed, little brother.  
Too late, a huge linebacker collided into Joe, taking the smaller of the two, which was Joe, down.   
The crowd uttered an "OOOOHHHHH..." in unison. The whistle was blown and the coach ran down to check on Joe. It was only the fourth game of the season for the Bayport Tritons, but it seemed as if the entire team was cursed. Their star quarterback, Matt Hamilton, had come down with pneumonia at the start of the season; their field goal kicker broke his leg and even the team's mascot had managed to come down with an injury.  
Frank watched nervously as a crowd began to gather around his brother. The crumpled blonde haired figure, however, remained down. Frank struggled to see through the backs of the others. Finally, giving up, he ran down to the field to check for himself the condition of his sibling. Despite a verbal reprimand from the field security guards, Frank pushed his way through.   
"Joe, are you all right?" Frank asked his voice laced with unmasked concern. He kneeled before him and helped the assistant coach remove Joe's helmet. Underneath them, Joe didn't stir.  
"Mr. Bradbury!"  
Frank turned and watched Randy Carmichael, a defensive lineman for the Tritons, run up to the coach.  
"What is it, Randy?" Mr. Bradbury asked looking from him to Joe.  
"The school nurse isn't here today." Randy replied, out of breath.  
Frank began to rise. "Well, then I'll call the EMT."  
"No need for that," a weak voice said, dryly.   
"Joe?" Frank asked, helping his brother into an upright position.  
"I'm okay Frank...just...have a huge headache."  
"I would imagine so." Frank looked up into the eyes of a petite, red head. She bent over slightly and gazed at Joe with soft, hazel colored eyes. "Don't worry, he'll live," she told Frank softly with a small chuckle.  
"Who are you?" Randy asked, looking to Mr. Bradbury, who shrugged.  
"Me? I'm Julienne. Mrs. Bascomb, the school nurse, is out today. I'm her assistant," she replied coolly, before turning her attention back to Joe. "You, kiddo, took quite a fall there. But I don't think you have a concussion. Do you feel dizzy at all?"  
Joe stared at Julienne blankly for several minutes. The assistant nurse didn't seem to mind and merely blinked in amusement. "Well?" She asked after the staring passed the five-minute mark.  
"I'm okay...I think."  
"Too bad physics was against you, huh?" Julienne asked with a short laugh.  
"Huh?" Joe asked meekly.  
"Well, I'd estimate that linebacker was about...oh, say 260 lbs. You obviously don't weight that...180 lbs. at best. So the law of physics states that when you two collide, in order for him to have gone down, you would have to have been moving at...well...something close to 130 miles an hour."  
Frank snorted. Joe said nothing.  
Julienne handed Joe an ice pack to put on his head to lessen the swelling.  
"Take two aspirins if you start to get a headache...and as for you," she said, turning to Frank. "Don't let him go to sleep for at least another 4 to 6 hours. He may have a slight concussion."  
Frank nodded and helped his brother up and off the field.  
"Hey, wait!" Julienne cried, running up to stand beside Frank.  
"Do you have a lift home?"  
Frank nodded. "Yeah, we have a van. Don't worry."  
Julienne nodded. "All right, that's fine then. Take care of him," she commanded, smiling and patting Joe lightly on the shoulder.  
"My name is Frank," he told her suddenly.  
Julienne turned from where she stood.  
"So I've heard...and your brother's Joe, right?"  
Frank nodded. Julienne pulled out a scrap of paper and doddled something onto it.  
"My number...in case you need to reach me...but if there's any severe problems, call the EMT, okay?"  
"All right."  
Beside him Joe was mumbling incoherently to himself.  
"He's going to be slipping in and out dazed spells for a while. Common for people with head injuries."  
"Okay, thanks for all your help, Julienne."  
The red head laughed. "Call me Jules. Everyone does. See you around Frank...Joe," with that she turned and walked back towards the field, not noticing Joe was still staring at her.  
  
Frank watched Joe enter a fitful sleep, the morning paper folded between his fingers. It was 10 a.m. on a Saturday. Normally, Joe still wouldn't be up and considering his accident the night before, it wasn't startling to see Joe not up yet.  
"Frank?" The boys' mother poked her head in through the door.   
"Yeah mom?" Frank replied, bolting up from his chair.  
Laura Hardy smiled. It was nice to know that her boys were always looking out for one another. Frank had spent the night in Joe's room just in case he woke up in the middle of the night and wanted something.  
"Why don't you come down for a quick snack? Callie's here and wants to speak to you."  
Frank nodded, darting a glance at Joe.  
"Don't worry, I'll sit here with him until you get back, okay?"  
Frank leaned over and pecked his mom on the cheek. "Thanks, mom."  
Running downstairs, Frank caught sight of his blonde-haired, long time girlfriend, Callie Shaw waiting for him at the bottom of the staircase.  
"Hey."  
Frank smiled and leaned in to kiss Callie lightly on the cheek.  
"Hey yourself."  
"I heard what happened yesterday, how's Joe?"  
Frank shrugged. "After managing to keep him up for 6 hours yesterday, he went into a deep sleep...Haven't been able to wake him up since."  
"Have you heard from Vanessa?" Callie asked, propping herself down on the couch.  
"No," Frank replied and shaking his head for emphasis.  
"I wonder if she heard what happened to Joe...well, I guess if she hasn't there's no need to make her worry."  
"Hey, Callie." Frank said taking the seat next to her. "Do you know if there's a girl in our school named Jules?"  
Callie seemed to think for a moment before answering, "Jules Halo?"  
Frank shrugged, "Red hair...hazel eyes...petite."  
Callie nodded. "Yeah, that's definitely her. She's supposed to be a really great artist. That mural on the wing of the second floor hallway was done by her."  
Frank paused for a second to think of the mural. He remembered it pretty well. Someone had painted it over the summer of his junior year. The mural depicted a man breaking into birds with the words, "Let everything go" underneath it.   
"She painted that?"  
"She's really very talented," Callie replied, nodding. "What's the sudden interest? She's a junior, you know?"  
Frank shook his head. "It's...probably nothing." He turned away and then turned back, a shaky smile on his face. "Let's get a snack, all right?"  
Callie nodded slowly and then broke out into a grin herself. "Then we can check on Joe."  
Smiling, Frank nodded. "Sounds like a plan." 


	2. Chapter Two

Author's Notes: Chapter two is up. (sigh) I need to get to bed. Good night Cleveland, you've been a wonderful crowd.   
  
  
"Are you sure you want to go to school today?" Laura Hardy asked the youngest of her two sons over breakfast the next morning.  
"Yeah mom...I feel...well, I feel good enough." Joe said sheepishly.  
"Well, if you start to feel ill, call us and we'll come pick you up," Joe's father, Fenton Hardy, asserted. Internally he was proud that Joe was willing to go to school despite his not feeling well, it showed that Joe was maturing and showing initiative.  
"The coach called last night, by the way, you're benched for at least a week. After that maybe you can be an alternate lineman, but for now, just take it easy. Wouldn't want to see you go down like that again, little brother," Frank told him with a grin.  
"Yes that was just horrible how that man just charged at you," Aunt Gertrude said, pouring Fenton his coffee.  
"It's his job, Aunt Gertrude. Joe doesn't take it personally, right?" Fenton asked in a playful tone.  
Joe shrugged.   
"Well try to avoid further situations like that, all right?" Laura Hardy asked her two boys with the look she reserved for when they were on a dangerous case. Frank took a big bite out of his bagel and grabbed his book bag.  
"Whatever you want mom, c'mon Joe. If you really are going to school, we better go now."  
Joe nodded and rose from the table, gulping down the last of the milk in his glass before heading out the door.  
  
***  
  
"Maybe I should have stayed at home," Joe groaned, staring at his pop quiz for U.S. history.  
Behind him Chet Morton laughed, handing him a pencil. "Good luck, man."  
Forty-five minutes later and his head was still reeling.  
"I think I just failed." Joe sighed, stuffing his papers quickly into his backpack.  
Chet laid a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure if you study hard enough you could pass this class." The two friends darted through the crowded halls of Bayport High to Joe's locker.   
"So why am I failing?" Joe asked, exasperatedly, dialing the combination.  
"How's your head?" A small voice called behind him.  
Whirling around, Joe was struck with a distant feeling of nausea and would have fallen if it weren't for the strong arms that suddenly supported him. One was Chet's and the other belonged to...  
"Jules?"  
The petite red head smiled. "Aww...you remembered. Most of my concussion patients can barely remember their own names, nonetheless mine."  
"Are you okay, Joe?" Chet asked, breaking their brief moment of reverie.  
"Yeah," Joe said, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. "I'm okay now."  
Jules tilted her head slightly to the side, acknowledging Chet's presence. Slowly, she retracted her hand.  
"Mrs. Bascomb is here today, so if you start feeling ill you should go see her during lunch or something."  
Joe nodded blankly. Smiling, Jules reached over and touched the back of Joe's hand with the tip of her index finger.  
"Look alive, okay? You have another period to get through before lunch." Turning, she disappeared through the crowds of students in the hall.  
"Who was that?" Chet asked, looking at Joe in bewilderment.  
Joe shrugged. "A friend...I guess."   
"You sure about that?"   
Joe turned and faced Chet with unconcealed wonder. "What do you mean?"  
Chet shook his head and shrugged. "I've never seen you look at Vanessa like that."  
Joe shook his head and cuffed Chet lightly on the arm. "You're hallucinating."  
"Am I?" Chet asked seriousness embedded in his voice.  
"Yeah, you are. Come on, we have to get to class." Joe slammed his locker a little louder than he had intended and briskly dodged through the hallway, Chet reluctantly tailing him.  
During lunch Joe went to see Coach Bradbury in the boy's lockeroom. He could hear voices whispering. One of them sounded like Randy Carmichael, another sounded like Tom Harding, the quarterback for the Tritons and the other was definitely Coach Bradbury.   
Joe shrugged, he supposed if his teammates came down to visit their coach it wasn't such a big deal. Finally, he heard the voices coming closer and the coach opened the door to his office.  
"Joe!" Bradbury called, signaling for Joe to step into his office, which he did with little hesitation. Randy bolted up and nodding to Bradbury, left the office after a few seconds. The other person in the room was in fact, Harding, as well as another boy that wasn't on the football team.  
"What's up Hardy? How are you feeling? Still sore from yesterday."  
Joe shrugged. "I felt good enough to come to school today, didn't I?"   
Bradbury laughed. "Yes, I suppose so. So what business do you have with me, boy?"  
"Frank told me you called and said I was out for a week."  
Bradbury nodded. "Yup. School policy, can't have you playing with the konker you suffered last night, just wouldn't be kosher."  
"I know that coach," Joe said, nodding. "I just wanted to ask you if I could spend my d.l. time at home instead of on the bench. I would like to do some catching up on my studies."  
Coach Bradbury nodded. "Seems reasonable enough. I got other people to warm the benches for me. You go ahead and go on home for the rest of the week. See me on Monday."  
Joe nodded. "Thanks coach," he said, stepping out of the office.   
After a few paces he noticed that someone was trailing him. Turning he bumped straight into Randy.  
"Sorry man."  
Joe smiled. "It's all right Randy. Thanks for all your help yesterday."  
Randy scratched his head. "Think nothing of it. Hey, how are you feeling really?"  
"Not so hot."  
"Hey look," Randy searched in his bag. "I have some aspirin in my bag, you should take two."  
Joe shook his head. "No thanks man."  
"Why not? It's just aspirin?"  
Yeah, Joe thought, it's just aspirin.  
"All right, but I'll only take one. Thanks Randy."  
"Think nothing of it."  
The rest of the day was a blur; Joe's headaches fluctuated from being almost unbearable to nothing within seconds.  
Maybe Jules was right, Joe thought, maybe I should see the school nurse. As if reading his mind, Frank immediately walked over to his little brother and took his hand, pulling him aside.  
"Is your head still hurting?" Frank asked.  
"Right now it's okay...it was excruciating a second ago."  
Frank nodded. "Stay here, I had Mr. Richardson for American literature last year too, so I could probably talk him into letting you out of class today to see the school nurse."  
Joe nodded and tried to smirk a bit. "Thanks Frank."  
Frank's arm went around Joe's shoulder for a minute before he walked into Mr. Richardson's room.  
As he heard the door click shut behind him, Joe began leaning against the wall for support. Finally, his legs gave out and he was on the floor.  
"Joe? Joe?"  
Distantly he heard someone calling his name. Suddenly another person's arms were wrapped around him, but they definitely weren't Frank's.  
"Jules?" He murmured before he lost consciousness. 


	3. Chapter Three

There was a sharp pain in the back of his head and vaguely, detachedly, he could feel someone thrashing on a bed.  
  
Joe's eyes flew open and he would have fallen out of his bed had Frank not thrown his arms around him, restraining him.  
  
He quickly fell back down, exhausted.  
  
"What happened?" He even thought his voice sounded weak.  
  
"I don't know really…you complained about a headache and the next thing I know, you collapsed." Frank replied, furrowing his brows in a look of unfamiliar helplessness.  
  
"Yeah…that part I kind of remember." Joe replied, throwing the covers off and attempting to rise.  
  
"Easy, little brother. It's six p.m." Frank told him, easing him back to bed. Joe was too weak to stop him.  
  
"Where are mom and dad?" He asked, after a moment of silence.  
  
"Mom went to get dinner…she couldn't cook during all this excitement…dad's downstairs having a chat with our principal."  
  
"Why?" Joe asked, amazed. Dad never got into their school affairs, well, hardly ever.  
  
"Joe…"  
  
"Frank. Tell me." Joe replied, sternly, sensing his brother's retraction from the subject.  
  
"We think someone might have slipped you something…which is why you collapsed today."  
  
Joe shook his head. "But I didn't take anything…well, except that aspirin Randy gave me."  
  
Frank's eyes shot up. "What aspirin? Do you have any left?"  
  
Joe frowned. "No. I took the only pill he gave me. You don't think…"  
  
"Maybe." Frank replied, eyes shifting downward. "Not ruling anything out…not yet."  
  
"But who would want to take me out?"  
  
Frank shook his head. "I don't know, listen," Frank told him, patting his knee, "Get some rest. I'll check up on you in a little while, I want to make a few phone calls now. I'll bring up dinner when it comes."  
  
Frank rose. "Wait."  
  
"What is it Joe, do you need anything?"  
  
Joe massaged the bridge of his nose a bit before turning to face Frank again. "Did Vanessa call?"  
  
Frank smiled a bit. "Yeah. She did. You were asleep. I told her to stop by or call again tomorrow, when you're feeling better."  
  
"Right right." Joe said, distractedly.  
  
"Get some sleep, Joe. We'll settle this in the morning."  
  
Joe nodded and reluctantly let his pillow and blankets lull him back to sleep. He was too tired to care much right now anyway. Slowly, his eyes fluttered shut. Frank gently brushed golden locks out of his face, before retreating out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.  
  
Descending the stairs, he grabbed the telephone from the living room and brought it to his room. From his pocket he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and began dialing the digits.  
  
After a slow four rings a familiar female voice answered.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Frank paused and almost considered hanging up.  
  
"Hello?" The voice asked again.  
  
"Hey Jules. It's Frank Hardy."  
  
Silence.  
  
"I thought I'd be hearing from you."  
  
Frank smiled. "Did you?"  
  
"After what happened at school today…and knowing your reputation…yes."  
  
'Yes, their reputation did follow them around,' Frank thought.  
  
"What can I do for you?"  
  
"I was just wondering if you saw Joe anytime before the…incident."  
  
There was silence for a moment before a wary response came.  
  
"I saw him with that friend of yours…Chet Morton…and I think I saw him enter the boy's lockeroom. That's about it."  
  
Frank nodded. "Joe said he talked to Randy…so I guess he probably saw him at the lockeroom."  
  
"Probably."  
  
There was another moment of awkward silence, and then:  
  
"How is he?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
Laughter. "Joe."  
  
"Oh. He's doing better. Just woke up…a little dazed, but I think he'll live."  
  
Silence again, then:  
  
"You stole my line."  
  
"I know…Can you just, keep an eye out. See if there's anything…suspicious going on."  
  
"Well, I'm not a well practiced detective…so I wouldn't know what suspicious activities look like…but I'll keep an eye out for Joe."  
  
"Okay. Thanks."  
  
"No problem. If that's it, I need to go now."  
  
"All right…one more thing…"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks…for today."  
  
"Your welcome, Frank. Good night."  
  
"Night."  
  
Frank waited for the click of the phone shutting and the dial tone before replacing the phone onto the receiver. 


	4. Chapter Four

"So?" Chet asked as Frank dodged him in the second floor wing of their high school.  
  
"So what?" Frank replied, distractedly.  
  
"Why isn't Joe in today?"  
  
Frank began spinning the dial to his locker. "Didn't feel well," he answered hurriedly, pulling his locker open and throwing his last period books into it.  
  
"What's your hurry? It's lunchtime?" Chet asked, confused.  
  
"I need to find Randy."  
  
"Randy who?"  
  
"You know who."  
  
Chet looked even more bewildered, "Randy Carmichael? Why? He isn't in trouble, is he?"  
  
"Why," Frank asked, turning around. "Does Randy have a history of getting into trouble?"  
  
Chet Morton shrugged. "Not really. I don't know… he hasn't been going to this school for very long you know…"  
  
Frank sighed. "Yeah…I should check up on that. Listen, tell Callie I had to talk to Randy and I'll see her after school."  
  
"Callie has rehearsals today."  
  
"Oh yeah, I forgot." Frank slammed his locker shut and leaned onto it.  
  
"Yeah…she and Vanessa signed up to be stage managers for tonight's play."  
  
"I'll have to call her at her house later. Thanks man, I gotta go."  
  
"All right, hey, if you need a hand…"  
  
Frank smirked and smacked Chet on the arm. "You'll be the first person I call."  
  
"Aww…how sweet."  
  
"Later man."  
  
Chet watched Frank disappear into the hall. "Yeah…later."  
  
It wasn't hard to spot 6'2'', sandy haired Randy Carmichael. He was already on the field donning his Tritons uniform. Melissa Roberts, a member of the school's newspaper staff, was also there taking pictures. She waved and called out to Frank.  
  
"Hey Hardy. What're you doing here?"  
  
Randy turned and watched Frank trot slowly towards him.  
  
"Hi Melissa. Hey Randy."  
  
"Frank…"  
  
"Can I speak to you, alone?" Frank asked, ignoring Melissa's inquisitive stare.  
  
"Look…" Randy replied, looking from Frank to Melissa and tugging on Frank's shirt gently, wanting to pull him aside. Frank nodded and obliged. "If it's about Joe, I don't know what happened, all right? He seemed fine when I talked to him yesterday."  
  
"Yeah…but when my dad was asking around here yesterday if anyone had seem Joe that day, you didn't come forward."  
  
"Yeah, well," Randy replied, scratching his head. "I had a feeling if I did I would be under suspicion."  
  
"Sounds to me like not coming forward has made you seem even more suspicious," Melissa chided in, gaining a look of disdain from Frank. Melissa quietly backed off.  
  
"She's right, you know," Frank told Randy, watching Melissa run back towards the bleachers.  
  
"Look Frank…I'm sorry for what happened. Joe's a good guy and a great player. But I didn't do anything. Interrogate someone else, I have practice."  
  
Frank watched in stunned silence as Randy put on his helmet and made the two-yard trek towards the center of the field. He went back into the building to regroup his thoughts.  
  
  
  
"Frank? Could you get that?"  
  
Looking up, Frank didn't even realize the phone had been ringing. The voice had been Joe's from deep in his room.  
  
"Sorry about that," he called back, picking up the phone.  
  
"Hardy residence."  
  
"So you are alive."  
  
It didn't even take him a second to recognize the voice, or the vehemence in it.  
  
"Callie."  
  
"You remembered."  
  
"God…I'm sorry, I…I forgot to call."  
  
"I know that…but considering the stress you've been going through, I guess I'll forgive you."  
  
Frank smiled. "You're the best."  
  
"Tell me something I don't know."  
  
"Actually, could I ask you something instead?"  
  
"Shoot."  
  
"What do you know about Randy Carmichael?"  
  
A brief pause.  
  
"Nothing much. He transferred here from Riordan High School last semester. He seems to be a good football player. From what I hear, he gets average grades."  
  
"He used to go to Riordan High School?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Frank eyes widened a bit. "Aren't they a big rival of ours?"  
  
"I don't know. I guess."  
  
"Now that's interesting."  
  
"You don't think…"  
  
"It's a possibility Callie," Frank interrupted. "Right now I got nothing. At least this is something to go on."  
  
"All right…but just so you know…there are other members of that team."  
  
"What do you mean?" Frank asked, gaining a bit of interest.  
  
"It may just be gossip, but Tom has supposedly never like Joe."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't know. Truthfully, the guy gives me the creeps."  
  
Frank shrugged. "All right…I check up on it."  
  
"Good. I'm going to go, it's about dinner time, I'll call you back a little later, okay?"  
  
"'Kay. Thanks Callie."  
  
"Hey, if there is someone who is deliberately hurting Joe, he's no friend of mine, neither."  
  
Frank laughed. "All right. Stay dangerous."  
  
"Thanks. You too. Bye."  
  
"Bye," Frank said, clicking the phone off and setting it down on the coffee table.  
  
A few minutes later it rang again. This time Frank picked it up after only three rings, mindful to not wake Joe.  
  
"Hello? Hardy residence."  
  
"Frank?"  
  
"Jules?" Frank replied, bewildered. 'Why would she call me,' he wondered.  
  
"You should come back to Bayport High right now."  
  
Frank was a bit startled. "Why?"  
  
"There's been another accident." 


	5. Chapter Five

Frank drove passed the front of the school and hurried out. The area surrounding the school football field was chaos. An ambulance was there, its siren blazing and dazed student paced up and down the street.  
  
"What's going on?" Frank asked Melissa, spotting her amongst the crowd.  
  
"It's Randy. He just passed out on the field." She replied, exasperated. Frank ran towards the field. "The EMT are there right now trying to resuscitate him!" Melissa called after him.  
  
Pushing passed the crowd; he was stopped abruptly by Mrs. Contres yards before the field. Mrs. Contres was his European literature teacher; nice woman, just a slight bit naïve in Frank's opinion.  
  
"I'm sorry, Frank, but no one's allowed on the field right now."  
  
"What's going on? Is he okay?" Frank asked quietly.  
  
Mrs. Contres wrapped a warm arm around Frank's shoulder.  
  
"I don't know. I think they said he had some kind of heart failure."  
  
"Heart failure?"  
  
"Yes. Strange isn't it? I always thought that Randy was in the picture perfect of health."  
  
Frank nodded, uninterested. "Thanks Mrs. Contres." He replied before stepping back. He bumped straight into Chet.  
  
"Hey man." Chet greeted, warmly.  
  
"What's this I hear about Randy having heart failure?" Frank asked immediately. Chet retracted a bit, startled. He recovered after a moment, noticing Frank expected an answer.  
  
"I don't know. The Tritons had just gotten their first down in the second half of the game when Randy just let out this loud groan and collapsed on the field."  
  
Frank shook his head, nauseous. "That can't be. I just spoke to him. He was fine."  
  
"Well, he'll probably be all right." Chet assured him, not understanding Frank's uneasiness. "They need to run some tests though."  
  
"No…it's just."  
  
"What Frank? You seem to be on pins and needles all day."  
  
"Who would want to hurt Randy?"  
  
Chet shrugged. "Last time I heard, that line started with you and went around the block." The moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Chet flushed and apologized.  
  
Frank smiled slightly. "Don't apologize. You're right."  
  
"So what next?"  
  
Frank shook his head, eyes set and grim. "I have no idea."  
  
Walking back to the van, he noticed the EMT loading Randy onto their vehicle. Seconds later it shot out into the darkness, bright red lights flashing, breaking the silent night.  
  
"You look about as dazed as everyone else here."  
  
Frank turned, recognizing the voice.  
  
"Jules…"  
  
"Lost your number one suspect today, huh?"  
  
Frank smirked. "How did you know?"  
  
"Wild guess." Jules went up and leaned against the van. "What're you going to do now?"  
  
Frank shook his head. "Don't know."  
  
"Do you know what happened with Randy?"  
  
"Mrs. Contres said something about heart failure."  
  
"For real? I doubt that. Anyone with heart problems can't play on the team, definitely not on varsity."  
  
Frank shrugged. "It's not like we can check."  
  
"Sure we can. I'm sure the school has some record of his physical on file."  
  
Frank thought about it for a moment before responding gravely, "Where?"  
  
"I'll show you."  
  
***  
  
"Joe?" Laura Hardy asked, peeking her head into the room of her younger son.  
  
There was a brief moment of shuffling among the sheets until Joe emerged into her vision, eyes a bit droopy and his hair in a corkscrew.  
  
He smiled wanly at his mother. "Hey mom. What's up?"  
  
"It's Vanessa. She called again for you and I was thinking it was time you got up and said something to her."  
  
Joe checked the clock. He had literally slept for 24 hours straight since the "incident" at school. Shrugging, we went into his closet and threw on a sweater over his sweatpants. "I will, mom."  
  
Laura smiled and pinched Joe lightly on the cheek. "Good."  
  
The living room was fairly empty, with Frank having rushed back to school without any real explanation except that he had to "check something," and their father buried in his office with work. Joe collapsed onto the sofa and laid there for a minute before reaching for the telephone.  
  
It was picked up after only two rings with a tense, weary strewn "Hi."  
  
Joe paused; swallowing a lump in his throat he didn't know had formed. "Vanessa?"  
  
***  
  
"Are you sure we can come in here?" Frank asked in disbelief as Jules flipped on the light switch for the nurse's office.  
  
"I'm Mrs. Bascomb's assistant…so I come here a lot to file things for her. It's not a big deal. If we get caught, I'll tell them I was finishing up some work."  
  
Frank shrugged. "Sounds good to me. Where's Randy's file?"  
  
"All the sports consent forms and such are filed in these two cabinets," Jules replied, pointing to the cabinets in front of them.  
  
Frank carefully slid one of the drawers open. "Carmichael…should be somewhere in the first drawer, right?"  
  
Jules shrugged, turning away to look out for anyone coming. The hallway was empty. "I guess."  
  
"So what's up between you and my brother?"  
  
Jules turned her head slightly; only able to view the back of Frank's head from where he was crouched.  
  
"What do you mean?" She asked, innocently.  
  
"I saw the way you looked at one another."  
  
"An expert on facial expressions, are you?" Jules replied, a bit incredulously.  
  
Frank shrugged. "It's in my job description. Have you seen each other around before or something?"  
  
"He'd say no…but yeah. Actually, we've been going to the same school since kindergarten…and we usually have at least one class together."  
  
"But you've never spoken to him?"  
  
Shrugging.  
  
"Why?"  
  
More shrugging.  
  
"Well, I think I found it," Frank said after a moment of silence.  
  
"What does it say?"  
  
Frank opened the folder and flipped through a few documents. A sick note written in his handwriting signed by "his mom," the school release form for sport's players and finally…his physical.  
  
"He's healthy as a horse." Frank replied, staring at the document hard.  
  
"Looks like you've got the wrong guy then…if Randy's the guy who tried to hurt Joe, what's he doing laid up in the emergency room?" Jules asked.  
  
"I don't know…Mind if I look any of the other files?"  
  
Jules shrugged. "I don't care."  
  
Frank flipped through the cabinet…Jerry Damascus, Eric Earnshaw, Sean Fisher…  
  
"Thomas Harding."  
  
"What do you want with his file?"  
  
Frank's eyes darted up for a second. "Checking up on a lead."  
  
Jules blinked, glaring at Frank in amusement.  
  
Frank opened the file and flipped through its content. Jules continued to watch out for intruders, after a few minutes she grew restless and began to pace.  
  
"Bingo." Frank said at last, a grin spreading over his face.  
  
Jules walked over and peered over his shoulder curiously. "What?" she asked after a moment's silence.  
  
"It says here that Thomas Harding has a prescription for barbiturates." 


	6. Chapter Six

Author's Notes: Sorry this took so long for me to update, it's been a whirlwind kind of year. More soon, I promise. Thanks and much love to those who've been asking about this story's progress, you make it all worth it. 

* * *

            "I know." Jules had told him, shutting the door of the office behind her and pulling Frank aside. 

            Frank lifted wide, brown eyes at her. "What?"

             "Look, I'm not supposed to talk about the health problems of some of the players at Bayport High…but Tom Harding has a medical condition that requires him to be on a certain mixture of medications."

            "What?" Frank asked horrified. 

            "I really have said too much already," Jules replied, frowning. "Let's just get out of here." 

            Frank reluctantly rose, glaring at the folder of him as if he were afraid it would hurt him, before nodding slowly and shuffled out after Jules, a nagging feeling that he had left something still on the back on his mind. 

            Outside, Chet Morton was fiddling with his watch when he saw Frank making his way towards him.

            "So?"

            Gnawing his lower lip, Frank shook his head. "He's clean."

            "Man, what is going on here?" Chet demanded, hitting his fist against a nearby locker.

            "Do you know what kind of medical condition Tom Harding has?" Frank asked slowly, looking around him to confirm that they were indeed, alone.

            Chet shrugged. "Guy's an enigma. I've never heard anything about his folks, where he lives or anything like that…didn't even know he had a medical condition nonetheless guess what it may be." 

            "Yes, that is odd," Frank mused aloud. "Anyway, Jules wouldn't say anything about it only that it was serious and he's on some heavy medication."

            An odd look crossed Chet's eyes. "What?"

            Chet shrugged. "I don't know. I don't trust that girl. She's been in the same classes as Joe for a long time and she's always had this manner about her, you know? Like she was hiding something and she would give us the funniest looks whenever the three of us were together."

            Frank gave a thin smile. "I thought I was supposed to be the paranoid one of the group."

            Chet raised his hands as if to fend off an attack, "I'm just giving you my opinion. As little as we know about Tom Harding, at least he's been in Bayport for only two or three years, Jules has been here forever and if possible, we may know even less about her."

            Nodding, Frank eyed the empty hallway where he and Jules had parted ways moments ago, "Point. You know me Chet, I've never been one to give in to a hunch, that's always been Joe's thing, but…I just…trust her. But, you're right, let's have a chat with Phil and see what he can find out about either one of them." 

* * *

"How are you feeling?" 

Joe felt a pang of guilt upon hearing the concern poorly concealed in Vanessa's voice.

            "Like I've been steamrolled. You?"

            At her laugh, Joe relaxed a bit. This was Vanessa, Joe silently reprimanded himself, he had nothing to worry about.

            "Better than you I guess. Play was cancelled indefinitely after the…incident at the football game today."

Joe nodded at this, Frank had called earlier to check up on him and to tell him about the collapse of his old teammate at the game. Vanessa's anxious voice shook him out of his reverie, "Joe, what has been going on? I'm starting to worry we've got some nut at school sabotaging the school games."

            "I'm afraid I can't answer that," Joe replied, scratching his head. "Frank's been doing all the detective stuff while I've been…well, I slept a lot."

            A pause and Joe thought he could feel Vanessa smiling at him through the phone. God, he thought, I'm an idiot.

            "Vanessa?"

            "Yeah?"

            "We'll always have each other no matter what may come, right?"

            "Huh?"

            "Just answer the question."

            A pause for deliberation. 

            "The alternative is unthinkable."

            Joe smiled, feeling better than he had been for days. 

            "Okay. Just making sure. Hey, what happened on 'Friends' today? I missed it."

* * *

            "Tom?"

            Instinctively pulling away at the touch, Tom turned and stared at the shadow approaching him.

            "Yeah?"

            "It's okay, Harding. It's me."

            Tom smiled wanly at the figure that quickly came into focus before his eyes and sighed, "Jules." 


End file.
